


Small Deceptions

by Jenwryn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Time, Future Fic, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-31
Updated: 2007-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth has made a spectacle of herself and, when she goes to clear the air between them, she ends up acting very unprofessionally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Deceptions

**Author's Note:**

> My first McWeir fic. Amazingly OOC.

Two days had passed since the reception following Teyla and Ronon's wedding on the mainland. Two days had passed since Elizabeth had let her hair down and gotten just a _little _too drunk. Two days had passed since she'd ended up dancing on the table with a handful of Athosian men gawking up at her. Athosian men, and John - and Rodney. John she didn't really mind so much about. Sure, there was the authority issue, but she had kept the _majority _of her clothes on, and she knew that he'd been more amused than anything else. They were good friends - completely platonic - and it wasn't as though it had been the first time he'd seen her drunk. After all, they'd had leave on Earth at the same time on more than one occasion. He knew she could drink him under the table.

But Rodney. Rodney, on the other hand, was someone she had to work with as much if not more than John. And he didn’t really strike her as the type of man who was all that accustomed to seeing his female colleagues - let alone his boss - half naked. Or male colleagues, for that matter. She paused mentally – no, she was pretty sure that he didn’t bat for the other side. And - whether she wanted to admit it or not - she genuinely cared what Rodney thought.

She knew she had put it off for long enough, but it was already 11pm before she had mustered up the determination – aided by just a _little_ beer shared with John (who got a chuckle out of her concern, and teased her for fancying McKay) - and knocked firmly on the door to Rodney’s quarters. She had already tried his lab, and the mess hall, and so far as she knew this was the only other place she could reasonably expect to find him. She presumed that he wouldn’t be asleep.

When the door slid open he reddened a little, which told her that her drunken antics had had exactly the embarrassing effect that she had imagined. ‘May I come in?’ she asked in a meek voice. He nodded, and motioned her past him, more influenced by his surprise at her tone than anything else. She then glanced around curiously, ‘So, this is where you live?’ She hadn't actually been inside his quarters before - not that that was surprising - she hadn't been inside the vast majority of quarters in Atlantis.

His eyes darted rapidly, and then he shoved what she presumed was either dirty underwear, or a disreputable magazine, out of sight. Then he just looked uncomfortable.

‘Well, this is awkward,’ she said with an apologetic smile, then shrugged slightly, ‘Look, Rodney, about the other day. I’d had a bit much to drink. That Athosian alcohol can really pack a punch. I really don’t remember much…’ She paused. That part was what she would describe as a strategic exaggeration. It was simply a fact of life that people are much more likely to forgive drunken stupidity that you can’t remember, than drunken stupidity that you can. It was illogical, but the truth. 'I know I got to dancing. Other than that...'

He shifted slightly on the spot, moving his weight from one foot to the other. He looked so appealing uncomfortable that she simply couldn't help herself. Afterwards, she could never explain what made her say it. But a mischievous twinkle entered her eyes and she added on impulse, ‘I hope nothing too… unprofessional happened.’

He stared at her and spluttered, ‘You came here because you’re worried that we might have -’ he stopped suddenly. She could see the cogs in his impressive brain-the-size-of-a-planet turning, albeit at a much slower rate than was usual. Then, to her complete and utter astonishment, he glanced at her sideways and muttered, ‘Well. Later you did get rather - amorous.’

My God! For a second she just stared at him, gob smacked, and didn’t know whether to laugh or reprove him. Of all the audacious, bare-faced lies! And then, still riding on her wave of impulse, she decided, well, two of us can play that game.

She knew it was naughty. She knew it was unprofessional. But she simply couldn't help herself. She'd been wanting an excuse to flirt a little with him for quite a long time. And so she took a step towards him, leant forwards slightly and said in a her best embarrassed-sounding voice, ‘We didn’t… you know?’

His face went as red as a fire-engine, but then he had the audacity to actually sweep his gaze thoughtfully up and down her body, and then nod quickly.

My God! This was Rodney! Rodney McKay, her chief scientist, staring her in the eyes and lying to her. She knew perfectly well that she'd done no such thing. She'd danced, made an exhibition of herself, and then fallen asleep. And then she paused, and arched an eyebrow. It was just possible that she could have some fun with this. Get a little harmless revenge in for the uncountable times he radioed her ten minutes after she'd _finally_ fallen asleep to tell her there was something she 'just had to see'. She could give him a little scare, and John would laugh himself silly when she told him. And on the other hand... if he were made of stronger stuff than he looked -  she paused, and surveyed him much as he had just surveyed her. Well – it was late, they were alone, and she hadn’t had a decent lay in more months than she would like to admit. Not that she believed it would come to that.

She took another step closer, and said in a syrupy voice that under any other circumstances would have made her ill, ‘You’re saying that we made slow and passionate love? Oh, Rodney, and I don’t even remember it!’

He swallowed.

Inwardly, she was grinning. Any minute now, he’d bolt and she'd have a good laugh and tell him she was joking, and it was his just deserts for all the times he'd been a nuisance.

She moved another step closer. ‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted – and now – to remember nothing -’ She gazed at him, quite enjoying the view from this proximity, and said, ‘I don’t suppose…?’

He managed to find his voice but it came out slightly tatty around the edges, ‘Don’t suppose what?’

Another step closer. ‘Well,’ she murmured, and trailed a finger languidly down the side of his face (any second now, he’d bolt), ‘You know – just once more – so I can remember it?’

He seemed again to take a phenomenal amount of time to wrap that impressive brain of his around the meaning of her words and then she saw just how red his face _really_ could go. His chest heaved. Whoa, girl, she reprimanded herself, if this really is going to go down, then don’t get him too worked up or you’ll blink and be done. You may as well get your fun out of it if you’re actually going to do this.

_Was_ she actually going to do this? Part of her brain was yelling at her to act her age. But another part was thinking that Rodney was quite cute when he blushed. She didn't think she'd ever seen him so disconcerted.

‘Just like last time?’ she whispered, not giving herself time to think through what she was contemplating, and let her lips brush his ear. He shivered. ‘Slow and passionate?’

And then when he bit his lip and actually nodded she switched off the professional part of her mind, took a step back, and pulled her shirt up over her head. For the second time in as many days, she stood before him half naked. Well, so much for coming here to clear the air about it. She kicked off her shoes, barely believing what she was actually doing, and then padded barefoot back to him. Ever so slowly, she slid her arms around his neck, rose just the tiniest fraction on her toes, and kissed him.

And got the shock of her life when he met her pace and kissed her deeply – expertly, _devastatingly_ – back. It as like the man beneath her arms had suddenly changed and a completely different Rodney stood before her. A Rodney who knew exactly what he was doing, though his face was still a little pink.

She pulled back and stared at him. He saw her expression, shrugged arrogantly, and said, ‘What? I don’t know why everyone presumes that just because I don't go kirking everyone like Sheppard does, that means I'm ignorant of the science of love-making.’ And then he leant back in and kissed her again.

Her heart pounded.

My God, this is _Rodney_.

He had his hands on the small of her back and now he rose them up along her spine, ever so slowly, the feel of his fingers making her skin rise up in goose bumps. He unlatched her bra with a flick of his fingers, pulled it over her shoulders and let it drop on the floor between them. Suddenly she realised what she was actually doing. Damn John and his beer! She moved to pull away, but at that moment the scientist moved one of his hands around and cupped her breast, reaching his thump up to circle the nipple till it stood hard and taut. She shivered under his touch and felt her determination to move away melting. 'Rodney, I-' she began, but he glanced at her and said simply, 'Elizabeth. Shut up.' And then licked the hard nipple and nibbled on it gently. Her eyes widened and her flesh locked the door on her complaining mind and reached out her hands to wrap themselves around the bat of his neck as his head bent forwards to fondle her breasts with lips and tongue.

Oh God. How could this be Rodney?

Keeping one hand on her breasts he straightened, and kissed her devastatingly again, his other hand returning to its journey up her back and then knotting itself through her dark curls. ‘I thought you were into blondes,’ she murmured, and she felt his lips smile in response as he kissed her hair, and then moved down along her skin – kissed her jaw, kissed the sweet spot on her neck, kissed the curve of her shoulder. He slipped his fingers beneath the band of her trousers and whispered so low that she could barely hear him,  ‘I am. But I’m also into you.’

She started, flabbergasted. And all she could think was, _My God, this is Rodney! _And then, as he sucked hard on a nipple, _I should have done this months ago!_

She wriggled a little from his grasp and pulled his shirt over his head and then unbuckled his trousers. He stepped out of them, barely noticing, deeply absorbed in his exploration of her body, his hands wandering of their own volition. He unzipped her slacks, slid them from her, his fingers sliding the length of her legs, brushing the insides of her thighs.

‘My god,’ she moaned aloud, and pushed him back towards his bed. He glanced at her and grinned, ‘What happened to slow and passionate?’

She swore and bit him, hard, on the shoulder, and he laughed and slid his hands deep into the seat of her knickers even as he fell back on his bed and she tumbled on top of him. He had on his most self-assured expression as he laid her out on the blankets and kissed her hard and long until her hands clutched at his back. Then he moved, excruciatingly slowly, down the length of her body and pressed his fingertips against the fabric of her knickers. She felt a stupid grin on her face but was too far gone to care.

My God this is Rodney!

She shut her eyes and dug her head back against the mattress as he slipped his hand beneath the material, fingers brushing teasingly against her softness, knuckles pressing lightly against her. She was already wet and he grinned, impressed that he had the capacity to turn Elizabeth Weir so on with just a little clever application of mouth and hands. With a finger he pressed temptingly against the source of her dampness, his thumb all the while starting a slow circle against her clit until she moaned aloud and rose her hips from the bed to press against him. He brought her almost to the edge of her climax, then, just at the right moment, slowed his circles and almost paused - and took the opportunity to pull her knickers from her.

She opened her eyes, and groaned, 'Rodney -'

But whatever she'd been about to say, she forgot, because at that moment he pushed her legs further apart and she breathed in a jagged gasp as his tongue darted inside of her and then his lips sucked at her clit. 'God!' she gasped, and started making little panting noises, her hips rising higher against him, her back arching, and he had to hold her with one of his hands because of the little rocking motions she had begun to make though she wasn't conscious of it. He slipped a finger inside her, then another, and she cried out as he worked them, pressing from inside up towards her belly, and all the while working his mouth against her until she had half-risen to a seated position, and she came blindingly, her hands clutching at him and her nails digging deep into his shoulders.

He raised his head and with her breasts heaving she took in the gleam of pride in his eyes. He's so arrogant, she thought, and pulled him to his knees in front of her, kissing him just as skilfully as he had kissed her, her hand reaching to press against his boxers. He was already well and truly aroused, and she grinned in her self-satisfaction as he eyes widened a little as she slipped her hand into the shorts and took him in her fingers, stroking, caressing, running her hand with just the right pressure along the length of him. 'Elizabeth -' he groaned, but she shook her head and nibbled his ear, 'Now it's your turn to shut up.'

Her grasp tightened a little and then she eased his boxers out of the way and sat herself in his lap, feeling him hard against her abdomen, then her hand guiding him inside her. 'Oh, _God,_' he moaned and she watched him shut his eyes in delight, a small gasp of pleasure escaping her own mouth at the feel of him hot and hard inside her. She pushed him back a little to give her room to work, and then moved her body up and down along his shaft, circling ever so slightly, the muscles inside her convulsing against him. She murmured his name in pleasure, and then he came in a white-lit orgasm.

She collapsed against his chest with a triumphant grin upon her face. For a while, she just inhaled the smell of his skin and concentrated on breathing, then she kissed him softly, nibbling his bottom lip, and said with a smile in her voice and her eyebrows arched, ‘I never dreamt that you were such a bare-faced-liar, Rodney McKay. I wasn’t _that_ drunk the other day. I just danced on a table.'

He moved contentedly beneath her, a hand reaching up and fondling her breasts with a familiarity that belied the fact it had been their first time. He grinned a wicked smile that she had never imagined he could possibly possess, and tightened his grip on her. ‘I know that,’ he said, ‘And I knew that you knew. You’re a shocking actress, Elizabeth Weir.'

She stared at him, and then dissolved into a fit of laughter at the thought. ‘You’re an evil man, Rodney.’

He shrugged, ‘And you’re an extraordinary woman.’

She half sat up in astonishment, and stared at him in amazement.

He rolled his eyes, ‘A headstrong, stubborn, and occasionally self-righteous so don’t let it go to your head.’

She poked her tongue out at him, and then shifted her body until she half sat on him and half sat beside him, a leg hooked over his waist, trailing dampness on him as she moved. Then kissed him again. She decided that she liked kissing him. Liked it a great deal. Of course, it could just be the whole post-orgasmic thing going on, but still. It felt right. Then she looked at him quizzically, ‘What does this do for our working relationship?'

He groaned, shoved her off him, and sat up, one hand balancing himself against the bed and the other trailing her curves from thigh to breast. ‘Trust you to talk about work five minutes after sex, Elizabeth. But I don't see what difference it makes. I've wanted to get in your pants since I met you and it hasn't stopped me saving us all uncountable times, has it?' He inspected the bite that she’d left in his shoulder, and felt quite proud of it.

She laughed up at him, 'Rodney, you are such a romantic.' She didn't add that she had felt much the same about him, but asked instead, ‘So tell me,’ she asked, ‘Do you make a habit of this?’

‘What? Sleeping with my boss or deceiving women into wanting me?’

She grinned, ‘Either.’

He shook his head and kissed a nipple, ‘No. But I’m thinking now that I ought have taken it up sooner. And you? Do you regularly pretend that you’ve already had drunken sex with a guy just to get some?’

She smiled, made out as though she actually had to think about that for a minute, then shook her head, ‘No. Not since I can remember.’ Then she glanced at him with hooded eyes, and asked, ‘Will I have to do it a second time to have my way with you again, or can we just skip the whole fibbing part?’

He smiled, ‘Let me think about that.’ Then grinned when she reached down a hand to see for herself.

_My God… And this was Rodney...._


End file.
